


Drills

by EmberCelica



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, rtsecretsanta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 19:43:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmberCelica/pseuds/EmberCelica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been six months since the battle at the canyon.<br/>Six months since Wash looked back at him, and Tucker yelled for him to hurry, come on, and Wash didn’t follow.<br/>Six months since waking up and finding half of the reds and blues gone.</p><p>Tucker focused his mind on training the soldiers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drills

**Author's Note:**

> For thefestiveletterzed on tumblr. rtsecretsanta was a blast!

 It’s been six months since the battle at the canyon.

                Six months since Wash looked back at him, and Tucker yelled for him to hurry, come on, and Wash didn’t follow.

                Six months since waking up and finding half of the reds and blues gone.

_“Wait! What are you doing?!”_

_“Freckles, shake.”_

Tucker focused his mind on training the soldiers.

                They were on their 20-something lap and Tucker could feel the waves of anger and hate traveling from their eyes to him. One of them was muttering, panting, how he was a “fucking maniac, man.” The comment merely rolled off Tucker, one of the many complaints geared towards him since he began training the soldiers.

                “I thought leg day was yesterday!”

                “Every day is leg day, soldier!”

                “More sparring matches? _Again?_ ”

                “Stop complaining and get to sparring, soldier!” They started to hate him, sure, but there was a noticeable decrease in bodies brought in to the Medical Ward. These soldiers were becoming actual soldiers. Over time, Tucker found himself repeating the same encouragements and sayings Wash would say when he was training them. Various ‘come on, keep going’s’ and ‘get off your lazy fucking ass’s’ were used.

                Training the soldiers, Tucker found himself a bit grateful for some of the drills Wash made him do. The obstacle course, for example, was great for the rebels, teaching them endurance and speed. It also made the soldiers take Tucker seriously for creating such a bat shit insane course.

                Another thing that got the remaining reds and blues respect was the apparent rumors that surrounded the Blood Gulch Crew. Some nights had Caboose sitting by a fire with the rebel soldiers telling the stories of the Freelancers they met and then about Church and Texas. Grif and Simmons would stand by and step in with their own stories about what the Red team was doing around that, because hey Caboose, a lot of your stories focus around the Blue team and you’re not giving _us_ enough spotlight.

                Tucker watched from the outside of the circle surrounding his three team mates, the rebel troops leaning in intently to capture every word that escaped from their mouths. He would leave immediately when Caboose would censor a story with Wash in it or change it by replacing Wash with Tucker or Church.

                Tucker focused by training the soldiers.

                During one exchange with one mouthy soldier which ended in a double leg day for them and a bruised shoulder, Grif, observing in the shade after sending his soldiers to rest, remarked, “Since when did you become Wash?”

                 The orange soldier quickly regretted this as Tucker suddenly tensed up, then quickly turned around to face him.

                 Words barely holding back the venom that was coursing through his veins spilled out like a knife to the gut. “Since I fucking wanted to actually fucking rescue our team mates and make sure these goddamn idiots don’t goddamn die trying to do that. Remember how Wash was captured? And Donut? And, oh yeah, Sarge, your fucking cockbite of a leader? Shut the fuck up,” Tucker walked away from him, dust kicking up into the air from the furious way he stomped his metal clad feet.

                Grif sighed, meeting eyes with Simmons across the field, who had been talking to his group. Simmons turned and said something to his soldiers before walking over to Grif.

                “What’s wrong with Tucker?” Simmons asked, watching the turquoise soldier shout at some of the soldiers.

                “Same as always,” Grif responded.

                “I wish we could help him.”

                “I don’t think anything we have could fix him right now.” The remaining reds watched him walk back into the Rebel base, bumping past some soldiers and shooting back something angrily before walking away.

\------------------------

                “What?”

                “What did he—“

                “Obviously it’s some sort of intimidation—“

                “He’s gone even crazier—“

                “Why would he do that?” These whispers spread among the soldiers as Tucker walked into the field.

                 “Alright soldiers, are you ready to start drills today?”  

                Grif, Simmons and Caboose were silent as they watched him instruct the soldiers.

                “Let’s start with a hundred push up’s and then three laps around.” Tucker’s armor gleamed in the light that pored through the holes in the cave’s ceiling. His attention turned to Private Thomas, who muttered under his breath after Tucker’s instruction.

                “Got something to say, Private?”

                “Of course not, bumblebee,” the private replied. A small snicker started and quickly stopped as Tucker stepped forward to face him. Private Thomas stared into the turquoise and yellow helmet, unable to see through the visor but felt the stare boring into him.

                “That’s Sergeant Bumblebee to you. Get started on your drills.”

 

 


End file.
